Breaking Through
by PhoebeColeTurnerHalliwell
Summary: Edward never thought he would visit a mental hospital. He never thought he would meet a beautiful, broken stranger. He never thought he'd want to learn her dark secrets. He never thought he would love her. B/E.
1. Catatonic

_"A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal." -_Oscar Wilde

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**1. Catatonic**

Today was not Edward's day.

The last place he expected to be was sitting in the front of a big yellow school bus beside a blond frizzy haired girl who was completely engrossed in Stephen Hawking's _The Grand Design _and kept throwing what she thought were seductive smiles my way. I groaned. Why the fuck did the principal think this was a good punishment for me?

I could imagine what everyone was saying about me. It was bad enough practically the entire fucking school watched me board the bus. I could hear them laughing and whispering to each other, muttering about how I was getting what was coming to me.

Well, one deathly glare at all of them quickly put them in their place.

I had thrown myself in the first empty seat I found, wanting to make a quick escape as soon as we got to the mental hospital.

_Mental hospital. _God, what a stupid idea. This was obviously my father's idea of a joke. I'd have to remember to kill him later.

The only people on this bus were either overly enthusiastic preppy kids looking to get as many community service hours as possible, druggies who were looking to get out of suspended, or other random people. I was here because the principal, Mr. Greene, thought going to see people who were worse off than me would 'make me more humane.'

Whatever the hell that meant.

I pushed my earphones into my ears and cranked up the volume in my desperate attempt to keep my anger at bay. The last thing I needed was to end up punching Frizzy Hair Girl for no reason. I figured I could take it out on the unfortunate soul they assigned me to talk to. Honestly, I didn't know what they expected us to talk about. What do crazy people have to say, anyway? _The voices in my head think you're cute. _

I sighed loudly and shrunk down in my seat, crossing my arms. I was seriously going to kill Mr. Greene and my dad.

Luckily the ride to Forks Mental Hospital only took fifteen minutes. Forks, Washington is a very small town and everything is pushed together. Sometimes it felt very suffocating. Especially today.

The bus pulled in up by the entrance to the hospital. Mr. Banner, the unfortunate teacher assigned to chaperone this little field trip, got out first. I stayed in my seat, determined not to get up because it felt like getting up meant giving in. Letting Mr. Greene and my father win. If there was one thing I did not do, it was to admit defeat.

I felt a small tap on my shoulder and turned in annoyance to Frizzy Hair Girl beside me. She was watching me expectantly. "You gonna get up?"

I turned my body so that my legs were in the aisle so she could get past. She breezed past me without a second look. I watched Mr. Banner out of the window as he got a head count, frowning when he was off by a number.

"Where's Edward?" Mr. Banner asked.

Frizzy Hair Girl immediately pointed at the bus. That was when the bus driver, who apparently hadn't noticed that I hadn't gotten out, turned to me.

"Gotta get out. Even if you don't want to," he said knowingly.

I sighed again, this time much louder, and stormed out of the bus to join everyone else outside.

"Ah, Mr. Cullen. Finally decided to show," said Mr. Banner loudly. A couple of people snickered, including Frizzy Hair Girl. They shut up when they noticed me watching them, then averted their eyes to the ground.

"There is a list here of each of you. Beside it you will find the name of your 'buddy.' There is no trading names. You have who you have. You will be doing whatever your buddy wants to do, whether it's to play a game, do origami, or simply listen to their stories. Once a week for two months you will be coming here to spend time with your 'buddy.' That does not mean you can't talk to other patients here, but you must stick to the person assigned to you. Does everyone understand?" Mr. Banner asked, looking at everyone. His gaze seemed to linger on me a second longer than anyone else.

Some people muttered responses. Most either just nodded or didn't make any signs of acknowledgement at all. I kept my hands in the pockets of my jacket, wanting nothing more than for this day to end.

Mr. Banner began reading the names of the patients we were assigned to. I tuned him out, not caring to listen. I barely registered the words he spoke a minute later as he said, "...Cullen, you're buddy is Isabella Swan."

I rolled my eyes. Did he honestly expect me to care? I saw a few people cast haphazard glances my way, probably curious to see how I was taking all this. I was the only one here because of a personal punishment from the principal. They probably thought this was funny. Most of those back at school didn't care to openly show their amusement. In the end, I'd show them.

Isabella Swan. It was a pretty name. I wondered for a second whether this girl or woman or whatever was as pretty as her name. If she was young as well then maybe this might not be as difficult to get through as I thought. Assuming she wasn't a whack job. Which was impossible since this was a mental hospital, after all.

Mr. Banner ushered all of us inside. I made sure I was last.

Waiting for us in the lobby was a plump middle aged nurse. She grinned at all of us, probably happy that we were visiting some of her patients.

Mr. Banner explained to us that the nurse would tell us where we could find our 'buddies.' I hated that word. It made it seem as though we were back in kindergarten.

The nurse didn't give us a big speech about how much she appreciated us coming, which was refreshing. She told us all, one by one, where we should go. Once again I made sure I was last, wanting to prolong this whole thing as long as possible.

I hardly noticed when it was my turn. I didn't even look at the nurse when she asked me who my buddy was. When I told her a gentle smile escaped her lips.

"Isabella's in the recreation room. You can't miss her. She's the one by the window," the nurse said. I repressed an eye roll and turned to go, but a hand grabbed my wrist to stop me.

I turned in surprise, frowning. It was the nurse. She smiled at me sadly. "Be patient with her. She's been through a lot."

I stared at her, expecting more, but that was all she said before she patted my shoulder and turned to go into the office. Mr. Banner stood in the corner, watching to make sure I went to the recreation room.

Pissed and feeling defeated, I turned and stormed off in the direction the nurse had pointed me.

The recreation room was smaller than I thought it was. It was barely the size of my living room with only three tables. Some of the kids on the field trip looked up as I entered, some already playing games with their buddies. I ignored them, my eyes searching the room for my buddy. Isabella Swan.

There was a small window in the farthest corner of the room away from the door. Staring out of it, transfixed, was a girl who looked my age. She was sitting in a plastic orange chair usually found in elementary schools. I couldn't see her face from where I was standing, but I could already tell she was beautiful, even with her long brown hair hanging from her head in greasy strands and her dirty blue bathrobe.

I walked over to her, letting a small ounce of relief slip through my defenses. I pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. She didn't even look up as I approached.

I thought about taking out my ipod and listening while we sat together. Something told me this girl wasn't in a talkative mood. Hell, I wasn't sure if she even knew I was there.

But, just to say that I tried, I decided to try. "Isabella Swan?"

She didn't even blink. She kept staring out the window. I glanced out the window, curious as to what was so interesting outside. It faced the back of the hospital. There was a small garden that looked to be growing some flowers. There I saw more people from the hospital, including Frizzy Hair Girl. She was reading _The Grand Design _to an old bald man who kept pointing to parts of the page and laughing. She didn't look too happy about that.

I cleared my throat. "My name is Edward Cullen. I'm here to, uh, keep you company, I guess."

She still left no sign that she had heard me. Her hands were folded casually in her lap. I looked behind her at a tray beside her. It was full of uneaten food. Most of it looked like slop. I couldn't blame her for not eating it. What was her problem? Was she catatonic or something? Christ, was that why that nurse told me to be patient with her?

The room reeked of rubbing alcohol and jell-o. A scream coming from the TV on the other side filled the room. A couple of the other patients screamed too as a response, which resulted in a couple of the nurses standing nearby to hurry forward. I guess they didn't take much nonsense.

I turned back to Isabella, wanting to slap her in order for her to come back to reality. I had little patience for people who couldn't live regularly. People who took easy ways out in order to avoid everyday problems. People who acted like this- catatonic or 'crazy'- I had little patience for. Of course I knew there were some who had something genuinely wrong with them. But Isabella was young; my age. A teenager. What reason could she have to be in a mental hospital?

"Do you...want to go outside?" I guessed, trying to figure out her fascination with the outdoors.

I watched her intently, waiting for a reaction. What the hell was her problem? Did she think she was better than me?

"Look, Isabella, I'm trying really hard to be nice here, but you..." I stopped short when I finally saw her face.

She was absolutely beautiful. She had dark, chocolate brown eyes that, at one time, had seen better days. Her skin lacked the color to it that most people had. It had more of a grayish tinge to it. When was the last time she'd been out in the sunlight? Her lips, while red, looked pale and thin. Yet, despite all that, I could see her beauty. I should let Alice at her. She'd really have some fun.

"Do you talk at all?" I was beyond irritated. Screw patient. I couldn't be patient. Not when this was beyond all hope. How did they expect me to spend two hours everyday for two months with her? You can't talk to catatonic people. You're just wasting your time. Which was exactly what I was doing.

"Fuck this," I snapped, jolting out of my seat, the chair falling behind me as I did so. I stormed out of the room, past the oblivious patients and surprised nurses and back to the bus. I ignored the surprised protests of Mr. Banner and the bus driver and half-ran back on the bus. I shoved the earbuds back into my ears and put the volume as high as it would go. Screw this bullshit. I wasn't coming back here. And damned anyone who would try to make me.


	2. Hopeless

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who reviewed, added this on favorites and alerts. Twilight is not mine. Obviously.

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**2. Hopeless**

That girl was beyond hope. Whoever said otherwise were only kidding themselves. That's exactly what I told my father that night when he demanded an explanation for my 'despicable behavior' as he called it. I swallowed down the "Screw you!" that I desperately wanted to shout at him, but Carlisle Cullen wasn't a man you insulted and expected to get away with it.

My father looked at me, disappointment flashing through his eyes. He had loosened his tie when he returned home from the hospital. He'd probably expected to relax and spend time with Mom, but the phone call from Mr. Greene had changed that. That bastard. He definitely had it out for me.

"No one is beyond hope, Edward," he said softly, but with a hard edge in his voice. I wanted to scream at him, ask him how the hell he would know. It's not like he'd ever met the girl before. Hell, he probably hadn't even been inside the mental hospital before.

"But she just sat there and fucking did nothing! She didn't even respond to her own goddamn name!" I argued, earning a shooting look from my dad at my callous use of language.

"Well, son, that's how people sometimes act when they're sedated, perhaps, or have gone through a traumatic experience. Maybe she's just shy. It's your job, as her buddy, to get to know her. Make her believe you care. Even if you don't," he explained, looking at me knowingly.

I sighed. I never felt so defeated in my life. Since when do I, Edward Cullen, ever let anyone tell me what to do?

"Well, Dad, it doesn't matter because I'm not going back," I stated firmly with an air of finality.

"Yes, you are." My father had sat down and began going through his medical papers. He didn't look at me as he said it, and whenever he did that I knew conversations were over.

Fuming, I stormed out of his office. In my hurry to get away from him I nearly ran into Alice, my younger sister. She was a year younger than me and was the only one it seemed, who knew the real me. I didn't know how she did it, but she always seemed to know what I was thinking.

"Edward! Where's the fire?" she joked. She laughed and nearly spilled her glass of water.

I mumbled something incoherent and turned to head upstairs, but she wasn't finished yet. "So how was the hospital?"

I sighed. I really didn't want to get into it again. "It was great," I muttered sarcastically.

"I see. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

Alice sighed, but I knew her well enough to know she hadn't expected any other answer. "Whatever. I'm going out with Jasper later anyway and while conversations with you never last very long, I have better things to do than console you for things you don't deserve to be consoled for."

I made a face at her, which she matched at once. But then she smiled at me, and I returned it with a very small one of my own. We knew each other too well to stay mad or fight with each other for very long.

I headed upstairs while Alice made her way into the kitchen. My room was nothing special. Queen sized bed in the far corner of the room. In front of it was a new 30 inch plasma screen TV that I received from my parents for my birthday a couple of weeks ago. What I was most proud of about my room was my music collection. I had close to a thousand CDs with everything from Debussy to The Beatles. Yeah, I was a fan of classical music.

I threw my jacket on my bed and sat down at my desk, turning on my computer. I reached over to hit the play button on my stereo, not remembering which CD was inside it. I smiled when Mozart's Symphony #40 began playing. Mozart always put me in a good mood.

I began typing the essay that was due for English. I didn't get very far, though, when my thoughts drifted toward what happened today at the mental hospital. The place was small, nothing special. It was no bigger than a three story house. There weren't many patients there either. Enough for everyone on that stupid little 'buddy assignment' to have a 'buddy' but there probably weren't many extras.

As hard as I tried, the face of that girl wouldn't leave my mind. The way she sat, the way she looked out of that window. She just looked so...hopeless. How could a girl who looked no older than me have ended up in a place like that. The most likely reason was mental illness. But what kind of mental illness could break down a person so much?

Realizing what and who I was thinking about, I turned the music up higher and closed my eyes. I had to concentrate on this assignment. The last thing I needed to do was flunk English. That would be the cherry on top of an already fantastic year. And the best reason my father needed to send me to military school, as he kept threatening to do.

But no matter how hard I tried to push that girl out of my mind, she didn't want to stay away. There were so many questions about her, questions my curiosity wanted the answers to. And the worst part was I didn't know if I would ever get those answers because so far she hadn't spoken one fucking word to me.

Knowing it was pointless, I turned away from the computer and ran my hands through my unruly hair in agitation. This was ridiculous. This girl was a stranger. A stranger I'd only seen for maybe ten minutes. Said a handful of words to. A stranger I wasn't convinced even knew I'd been to see her.

I could feel my temper start to flare. _No one is _that _messed up, _I thought to myself. _She was probably only doing that to get out of talking to me. _

Well, no one messed with Edward Cullen. I would go back to the mental hospital. And the next time I saw her I would make it quite clear to her that she was messing with the wrong person.

* * *

The smell of rubbing alcohol and stale pills surrounded me as I woke up, welcoming me to yet another day at Forks Mental Hospital. I sighed, burying my face back in my pillow. Every night when I go to bed I imagine that when I wake up I'll be back in my own bed in my own room. I'll be with my friends and family, free to do whatever I want. I'll go outside and feel the blistering heat make contact with my skin, and I won't even care if I get a sunburn. At least I would know that it was _real; _not just another dream.

But every morning I'm snapped back to reality as I take in the bare white walls, the paint chipping off, the nightstand with a small glass of water and a cup of the medications I'm supposed to be taking. They don't know that I stuff the pills inside an opening of my mattress, hidden in the padding inside. I don't remember how many pills are inside it; I lost count a long time ago.

This morning is no different. I take the white cup holding the pills and stand up, throwing off the covers to reveal the bare mattress I've slept on for the past three years. I've hidden the pills well. It doesn't take much to stuff them away from the prying eyes of doctors and nurses who want to keep me drugged and unaware. I'm easier to deal with when I'm sedated. Just like everyone else here.

I gulp down the water so they won't get suspicious then throw on my bathrobe. It's cotton and used to be spotless white, but years of wear and only a handful of washings has turned it to a dusty gray. I walk over to the door, reaching out my hand to touch the doorknob, silently praying that this time it will turn. I want it to be unlocked. I want to run out of this suffocating room, down the halls, and out the door.

But it doesn't budge. My heart falls in deep disappointment. I try hard to keep the tears from escaping my eyes, and although I manage to succeed, it does nothing to quell my sadness. My longing.

Resigned, I turn around and sit on the edge of the bed, wishing I had another glass of water. I don't know what time it is since there isn't a clock in my room, but I know one of the nurses won't come for me until eight.

I scan the room, looking in vain for something to do. There isn't much. Aside from the bed and small nightstand, there is an even smaller closet with only three shirts and two pants hanging from it. I hadn't arrived with much, and since patients weren't allowed to wear outside clothes, they rarely got any use. There's a very small pile of books on the floor beside my bed that's closest to the wall. Actually there's only three books, and I've read them all. _Wuthering Heights, Romeo and Juliet, _and_ The Shining. _I wasn't in the mood to re-read any of them.

The sound of the lock turning jolted me out of my thoughts. The nurse I knew as Martha came in, smiling as usual. She was an older woman in her mid-fifties with graying blond hair gathered up in a tight bun on top of her head. Martha was the nicest of the nurses who worked here. At least she treated me like an actual person.

"Hello, Isabella. How are you doing today?" she asked, perkier than ever.

When I first came here I snapped at anyone who called me Isabella to call me Bella. A few of the patients did so, those who were actually sane enough to engage in normal conversation. None of the nurses did so, and the doctors refused to even acknowledge my preference. I would only be Isabella to them.

I don't answer her. I don't even acknowledge that she's there. It's nothing personal against her; it was her job to act as though she cared about me. In reality she didn't care. None of them did.

"How was yesterday?" Martha asked as though my acting as though she were invisible didn't bother her at all. "I know you got a visitor from the high school. It must've been nice to talk to someone your age."

I blink. The guy who came to see me yesterday made it quite clear he didn't want to be there. It was just as well because I didn't care that he was there either. I didn't ask to be part of that stupid community service thing Forks High School started up. Those students were getting community service hours for talking to the patients here. I'd heard the doctors and nurses talking about it, but I hadn't known I was to be a part of it until that day when I was taken into the recreation room and told I was going to be getting a visitor.

He'd tried being patient at first. He tried getting my attention and introducing himself. He told me his name was Edward Cullen, and it had been obvious that he expected an answer in return. Did he think I was stupid? Probably. He probably thought I was some loony since I was locked up in a mental hospital. My staring out the window aimlessly didn't exactly help that impression. But if I was lucky, maybe he wouldn't come back.

Martha gave up talking and walked me to the cafeteria in silence. From there she went back to the main hall.

I shuffled over to the line to get my food, standing behind a tall man in his thirties talking to someone beside him. Only the someone didn't exist. I sighed, just wanting to get my food, sit down, and get away from everybody else. When it was finally my turn I grabbed a tray from the pile and watched as the cooks splattered some slop in a bowl that was probably meant to be oatmeal and handed it to me. I put it on my tray without looking at it, took a banana and a bottle of orange juice, and sat down at an empty table near the back of the cafeteria.

I ate alone, as usual. I avoided the seriously mental patients, and the other relatively sane people were much older than me and didn't talk to me. I was the youngest patient here, being sixteen years old.

I ate a few spoonfuls of 'oatmeal', then pushed it away. I ate the banana and gulped down all the orange juice, wishing I had grabbed another one. But they never allowed us to go back for seconds so I would just have to wait until dinner for some more.

I stood up and went into the recreation room, not wanting to go back to my room. I wouldn't be getting another visit from my 'buddy' until tomorrow, so I was probably going to be called to group therapy soon enough. I never saw doctors one on one anymore. I never could figure out if that was because of me or the doctors.

The seat by the window was unoccupied, so I walked inside and sat down in the exact spot I'd been in yesterday. It had a perfect view of the outside garden. It reminded me of summers in Phoenix when my mother and I would plant various types of flowers and vegetables. We'd spend hours outside in the sweltering heat, getting our fingernails full of dirt as we planted seed after seed after seed. Sometimes when it was really hot, usually in mid-July, I would complain and quit, but my mother never did. She stayed out there all day sometimes, tending to the different plants we grew.

I hadn't been outside for a long time, not since...that time. Ever since then I wasn't allowed to go outside because they thought I'd try to run again. Staring out a small, dirty window was as close as I'd ever get.

I wasn't sure how long I spent staring out at that garden when a hand tapped my shoulder. I looked up and was met by Martha once again.

"It's time for Group, Isabella." She stood by and waited for me to get up. She gently took my arm and led me out of the recreation room. We both knew the way by heart, but I was usually always escorted from place to place, usually by Martha.

Group consisted of six patients, including me. I didn't care enough to pay attention to who participated. I never talked since the doctors knew better than to get me to. They'd probably deemed me as a hopeless cause when I first came here, figuring I would spend the rest of my pathetic life here.

I sat down between an anorexic woman in her late twenties and a schizophrenic bald man, wanting nothing more than for this to be over.

Dr. Allen came in a minute later, carrying his usual clipboard. He sat down in the chair in front of the door, his white doctor's coat hanging loosely off his body to show off his pristinely ironed blue shirt and tailored black dress pants. His short black hair was sleeked back and parted on his right side. Seeing him look so good always made me self-consciously aware of my greasy brown hair and dirty bathrobe and pajamas. I felt as though I were the dirt underneath his shoes.

"Good morning," he greeted everyone cheerfully as he sat down.

A few people muttered greetings in return. None of them matched his cheerfulness. I stayed silent.

The meeting began as usual. Dr. Allen asked if any of us wanted to say anything. If no one spoke up he usually volunteered people to talk about their day. I was never chosen. The anorexic woman began, talking about how hard it is for her every morning to be faced with so much food. I sat there, thinking about the garden and how beautiful I could make it if only I was allowed to go outside.

After a while I lost track of who was speaking. I had no idea why they still made me go to these meetings. It's not like they ever made me participate.

An hour and a half later the meeting was over and Martha was back to escort me back to the recreation room. She seemed happier than before, even offered to wash my bathrobe.

I raised my eyebrows at her, wondering what was going on.

"I just thought you might want to look nice for your visitor," she said as she took my bathrobe. I felt strangely exposed in nothing but my flimsy white pajamas with the words _Forks Mental Hospital _etched on the side pocket on the shirt.

I had a visitor? No one came to see me for two years and now I'm getting one a day? Martha saw my questioning expression and laughed quietly.

"He seems nice. Go say hi." She motioned to the recreation room and I saw him in the corner where we met yesterday. He was standing by the window, pacing and looking impatient.

When he saw me his expression darkened and I had the instinct to run. His eyes looked me up and down and disapproval was written all over his face. But he quickly masked his true feelings with a weird expression that I had the feeling was supposed to be a friendly smile. I almost smiled back.

"Hi, Isabella."


	3. Encounter

**A/N: **Once again, lots of thanks to everyone who reviewed, added this to favorites and alerts. It means so much that everyone seems to be liking this! Both Edward and Bella are acting the way they are for a reason. There are many layers to them. Hope you enjoy this latest installment!

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**3. Encounter**

I stared at the girl before me, struggling to take in the scene. She looked so different than the last time I saw her. Yet, she also looked exactly the same. Without that disgusting bathrobe hiding her figure, she looked much smaller. Not that she had looked huge or anything. But it was clear that she didn't eat much. She definitely hadn't had a shower. Her face, though, was what surprised me the most. Her eyes, though striking and beautiful, showed fear and unease. Was that directed at me?

She kept fidgeting and looked as though she were fighting the urge to run away. I hesitated, unsure of what to say or do to try to make her feel better. Which didn't make sense. The whole reason I'd even come back here was to put her in her place. I wanted her to know that even though I was being forced to spend time with her twice a week didn't mean that she had any control over me. _I _was the one in charge. She just needed to accept it and then we could move forward.

But seeing her like this...I don't know. Nothing inside me changed, but I had a strong urge to console her. Not wanting to say anything stupid, I said the only thing that came to mind. "Hi, Isabella."

She seemed to relax a little bit, but she still looked wary. I walked slowly in her direction, expecting her to turn around and run in the other direction but she didn't. She stayed where she was and although she stood stock still, she allowed me to gently touch her shoulder.

"Let's sit down," I said cautiously and led her slowly to the corner with the window. Somehow I associated this particular spot with her. At least I knew she felt somewhat comfortable here.

She sat down, keeping her eyes on me. It was the exact opposite of her behavior the previous day. I wanted to tell her to look away. I wasn't used to people blatantly staring at me. It put me on edge and I tended to lash out at people. Of course, I never hesitated to lash out at people who fucking deserved it.

But this girl...Isabella...I don't know what the hell it was about her, but I didn't want to lash out at her. I didn't know if it was that she seemed so fragile or what, but I knew this conversation would be pointless if I scared her.

Before I could begin what I had to say, a small voice piped up out of nowhere. "B-Bella."

At first I wasn't sure I'd even heard it. I looked around for the source of the voice, but when I looked down and saw Isabella staring up at me, I knew she had been the one to say it.

"What?"

She cleared her throat. It sounded scratchy from days, at least, of silence. "Bella. Not Isabella."

"Oh."

An awkward silence fell over us. I knew she was waiting for me to begin since I was the one visiting her. But, honestly, I now had no fucking idea what I was going to say to her because none of my planned speech was going to work now. But what did eventually come out of my mouth was no better. In fact, it was probably worse.

"At least I know you're not catatonic."

She frowned at that. I wanted to take my words back as soon as they left my mouth. Which was strange for me because I never said words I didn't mean. I sighed and wrung my hands through my hair, pissed that this was _not _how I wanted this to go at all.

Despite my poor choice of words, Bella was looking up at me, waiting for me to say what I needed to say. I hesitated, not sure how to begin. Every time I opened my mouth to speak, no words came out. I felt uncharacteristically embarrassed. Finally, I managed to get a single word out.

"Sorry."

I gazed into her eyes, looking for some reaction. Seeing her looking at me, watching me, made her seem different than she'd been the previous day. She seemed more active and aware of her surroundings. A far cry from before. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in my words. I was just as surprised as she was. I never apologized. To anyone. I hadn't even apologized with that girl about the whole incident that got me on this stupid field trip in the first place. But I pushed that thought to the back of my mind. The last thing we needed was for me to remember something that would surely send me into a rage. I didn't need to take it out on this girl.

Slowly, Bella moved her head up and down in an unsure nod. My lip twitched and I hoped I looked like I was smiling, but it probably came off more as a nervous tick. Christ, was there anything I _couldn't _do to make myself look like a goddamn idiot?

"Not just about the whole..." I paused, unsure how she would handle it. "You know, catatonic thing. But about the way I talked to you yesterday. I guess it was a bad day for both of us."

Bella nodded again. It was hard to tell if she was truly listening or if she was just nodding her head so I would think she was listening. The only way to know for sure was to keep talking.

"I went home and thought about it and decided that I never really gave you a chance. I was just angry about being forced to come here and took my anger out on you. You didn't deserve it, and I apologize."

There. I said it. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, I watched Bella to gauge her reaction. Judging from her furrowed brow and fidgeting hands, I determined that she was confused and somewhat nervous. I didn't know why. I hadn't attacked her, had I? She was squirming in her seat, looking as though she were fighting a very strong impulse to run.

I sighed, trying desperately to keep my patience in check. What else could I do? In a voice much calmer than my actual mood I asked, "Did you hear me?"

Almost like she'd become so lost in her own thoughts, she looked up at me as though she only now remembered I was still there. And then she did exactly what I thought she was going to do at the beginning.

She ran.

I watched her, dumbstruck, as she hurtled past the stunned nurses and unaware patients out of the room. What the hell was that? What had I said to scare her so fucking badly? I thought about following her, but knew that wouldn't do any good because she'd just keep running until I stopped.

But why should I follow her? I'd come here to apologize to her. That's exactly what I did. How she took it was up to her. Not me. My job was done. I didn't owe this girl anything.

I kept my head high as I left the recreation room and passed through the lobby. I returned my visitor's pass to the nurse we'd been introduced to the previous day, ignoring her curious looks. I wasn't going to engage them in petty conversation. No doubt she was wondering what Bella and I talked about.

She said goodbye as I turned and walked out the front door. I smirked all the way to my car. Tomorrow's conversation with Bella ought to be very interesting.

* * *

He'd come back. I hadn't expected him to. In fact, when Martha told me I had a visitor after Group, I'd assumed she meant Charlie. But that thought was ridiculous. Charlie never came here.

When I saw him, my body was thrown for an emotional roller coaster ride. I had no idea what to make of him as he stood tensely in front of me. I watched him carefully, not wanting to be caught off guard around him. He'd already shown me what happened if he got angry. I didn't want him to do it again.

He led me to the window. My first instinct was to yell at him that I was perfectly capable of walking myself, but I didn't want to give him any reason to yell. I sat down but kept looking at him. It didn't occur to me until later that I was probably making him feel uncomfortable. He looked so out of place standing in the middle of a mental hospital in his dark blue polo shirt and loose fitting jeans. Maybe he was aware of the same thing. It was hard to tell.

When it was clear that he wasn't about to say anything else, I decided to tell him my name. Which was a little dumb because he already knew it.

"B-Bella." My voice was scratchy and rough from so much disuse. Part of me thought telling him my preferred name was pointless since no one here used it, but I was desperate to hear it. And, for whatever reason, I wanted him to say it.

At first I wasn't sure he'd heard me. He scanned the room, looking everywhere but me. Only when he caught me staring at him did my words seem to register to him.

"What?" he asked.

I cleared my throat, embarrassed by my croak of a voice. "Bella. Not Isabella."

"Oh."

I hadn't done a very good job to get the conversation started. It seemed neither one of us particularly wanted to say anything. But I didn't have anything to say. He obviously did, otherwise he wouldn't be here.

When he did eventually speak, it wasn't at all what I'd been expecting. He remarked that I seemed different than yesterday, his poor word choice bothering me. But then he apologized, which caught me off guard. I hadn't pegged him as the type to apologize for anything, yet here he was, watching me carefully and determinedly at the same time. He was looking for forgiveness and vindication. That much was obvious. He probably thought that what he said and how he acted weren't all that bad and deserved forgiveness.

When he was finished speaking he kept his eyes fixated on me. I looked away, my turn to feel uncomfortable. His impatience was growing, and after a couple seconds he asked, "Did you hear me?"

He was waiting for an answer. And I knew only one answer was acceptable. I wanted to give it to him, especially because I had forgiven him for how he acted yesterday. I'd grown used to strangers freaking out when they came here. The aura around this place wasn't exactly the sanest and most comfortable, and they usually rushed out of here as soon as they could. The fact that this boy- _Edward- _had been forced to come here had only reinforced his anger and impatience and he'd taken it out on the first person he'd been able to.

Me.

But I couldn't do it. I couldn't give him what he wanted. Instead I ran. I ran as fast and far away from him as I could. As I hurried out of the room and upstairs to my room, a part of me feared that he would follow me. Would the nurses let him? Would it matter to him if they didn't?

I ran into my room, closing the door for good measure. I wished it had a lock on the inside. At least that way I'd know I was safe from him. But he didn't know which room was mine. How could he know unless one of the nurses told him? He'd be able to charm a good number of them into telling him. Especially Martha. She may be way too old for him, but she'd been so happy when she told me I had a visitor. She didn't make her disdain for my lack of visitors a secret.

I waited for a few minutes, listening intently for footsteps outside the door. When it was clear that no one had followed me up, the tears came.

I berated myself relentlessly. I asked myself all the obvious questions.

_Why was I such a coward? _

_Why did I have to run away? _

_Why did I always push people away?_

_Why did I let every little thing get to me?_

I hated myself for giving in too easily. It felt like I'd forgotten everything my mother had taught me all those years ago. She'd constantly tell me to give people a chance and to not write them off and give them a label. She always told me that if someone did wrong by me and they came forward to apologize, that I should always be willing to give them another chance. Unless it was something absolutely unforgivable. I felt like a horrible daughter for not doing that now. But I couldn't go back down there and face him.

I buried my face into my pillow, wanting nothing more than to never resurface. As I laid there, wallowing in self-pity, I let myself yearn for all the things I wanted and missed. I wanted my mother. I thought of her beautiful face, her sparkling brown eyes and her voluminous dark brown hair that, as a child, I would bury my face in and inhale the scent I always associated with her.

I wanted to go outside and feel the sun on my face again; to just lay on a lounge chair in my backyard back in Phoenix with the radio on in the background. Sometimes, when we weren't gardening, I would lay back and watch my mother paint. She could always use anything as her model, but her favorite thing to paint were landscapes. She always included the desert mountains in the distance, peaking out at the top of the sunny blue afternoon sky.

When I first arrived here I'd lay in bed and think of everything I'd do once I left this miserable place. The first thing I'd do is get on a plane back to Phoenix. I'd go back to my old home and start my new life. I'd put this behind me, lock all the bad memories in the back of my mind and never dwell upon them again. I dreamed of getting married to the perfect man and starting a family of my own. I never wanted to be alone again.

I wasn't sure how long I was in my room before I heard the faint squeak of the door to my room opening. My heart sped up at the thought that Edward had waited around after all to finish out conversation. Then the sharp voice of a nurse filled the air, and I relaxed somewhat.

"Isabella. Here's your bathrobe." I sat up to take the garment from the younger nurse's outstretched arm. I didn't bother to mumble a thanks. "I'll return to get you for lunch in about an hour. Your pills are on the counter."

With a bothered sigh the unnamed nurse strode briskly from the room and slammed the door shut, locking it behind her in one swift motion.

I brushed a stray tear away as I sat up to put the bathrobe back on. It still smelled like detergent, but it wouldn't be long before the odor of pills and rubbing alcohol tainted it once again. My water glass had been refilled and a new set of pills sat beside it.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I grabbed the the white condiment cup with the pills and threw it as hard as I could at the locked door. When that didn't satisfy all the emotions that were swelling up inside me, I snatched the water glass and threw that at the door as well. The glass immediately shattered once it made contact with the door and they fell to the floor, littering the white tiled floor with shards of glass.

I fell down on my bed, angry tears falling down my face. It was impossible to quiet the sobs that escaped my throat, but I didn't want to. Soon a nurse would barge in here to find out what kind of racket I was making. But at the moment I didn't care. All I did was continue to cry, hoping that I would soon find an easier way to make the pain go away.


	4. Dazed

**A/N: **Hey everyone. Thanks to those of you who reviewed. I appreciate it a whole lot. Hope you like this chapter!

* * *

**4. Dazed**

**EPOV**

The bus ride to Forks Mental Hospital wasn't nearly as deplorable as it had been two days ago.

I managed to find a seat in the back, away from everybody else. I turned on my ipod and put the volume all the way up. With only my music to listen to, I was in a much better mood than I had been the other day. While I wasn't exactly looking forward to seeing Bella, it would be interesting to hear her explanation of what happened yesterday. If she even bothered to offer one.

I knew Mr. Banner was keeping an extra close eye on me today. He'd probably gotten chewed at by Mr. Greene about not making me participate. If he had to, he would tie me down to a chair in order to not get in trouble about this again.

Not that he would ever get the chance.

No one dares bother me during the ride to the hospital. I can feel their curious gazes on me, but I pretend not to notice. I've got better things to do than care about what other people think.

We get to the hospital in record time. I feel as though I've just gotten on the bus as I'm shuffling off it. I hate being part of this group, so I try to look as though I don't belong here. Not that there's really anyone here to convince. The only people here are the other students from school, Mr. Banner and the bus driver, the hospital doctors, nurses, and of course the patients. There aren't any other outsiders, which I find both welcoming and weird. Surely there is _someone _in that hospital who has someone on the outside?

_Get with it, Cullen, _my mind annoyingly reminds me. Sheesh, maybe it was me who needed to be checked in here. _They probably have a set time for visitors. _Of course this makes sense. They wouldn't send us here when others were present. It would defeat the whole purpose of having buddies.

Mr. Banner shoots me a warning look when I drift a little too far away from the rest of the group. I seriously don't know what the man's problem was. It wasn't like I was going anywhere. A fact I was very painfully aware of.

"All right, gang," Mr. Banner began. "Just as before, there will be a nurse in the lobby waiting to point you in the direction of your buddy. There will be no switching buddies, and if I find any of you neglecting your buddy in anyway, be prepared for a month's worth of detention. Do we understand each other?" He looked right at me as he said this.

Grudgingly I nodded. I knew all too well what would happen if I repeated the other day's activities. But still. What if Bella ran off again? Would they find some way to blame me?

Don't answer that.

Mr. Banner has us form a single file line like we're back in kindergarten. Or prison. I wasn't really sure which one was worse. I made sure I was last again. We met the same nurse in the lobby as before. Today her graying blond hair was in a single braid that ran the length of her back. She smiled warmly as though we were all great humanitarians for being here. I wasn't sure if I imagined it, but I was pretty sure I heard her giggle when her eyes fell upon me. Was this how it was going to be for the next three months?

"Hello, Edward. You're looking for Isabella, right?" she asked when it came my turn.

I nodded once.

"She's in the recreation room again." With another wide smile she pointed her hand in the direction I was supposed to go.

It wasn't necessary to point to the recreation room since I knew where it was by now, but I mumbled a quick thanks anyway and walked as slowly as possible.

I found her immediately in the far corner by the window. She was staring out of it, looking dazed. She looked as though she was doped up, which made me angry for whatever reason. She didn't seem the type to need medication.

Then again, the first time I'd laid eyes on her, I thought she was catatonic, so what the fuck did I know?

I made my way over to her, trying to decide the best way to approach her. Nothing I did so far seemed to work. She either ignored me completely or ran away from me. It was starting to piss me off. I tried to tell myself that it wasn't her fault. She wouldn't be in a place like this if she didn't have some issues. Issues that I did and did not want to know about at the same time.

God, what the hell was wrong with me? Why was I so hung up on this girl? She'd only said one word to me so far, and that had been her fucking name.

I braced myself with every step I took. I didn't want her to freak out again. Somehow I knew that would not end well for either of us. The closer I came to her, the more out of it she seemed. Her eyes seemed glazed, like she wasn't really seeing what she was looking at. Her mouth hung open a little bit, which looked incredibly sexy. Then I wanted to slap myself for letting that thought even enter my mind. What the hell kind of buddy was I?

"What are you looking at?" I asked in greeting.

If I hadn't been paying attention, I wouldn't have noticed the millimeter or so that she jumped because of my words.

"Sorry," I said quickly, pulling up a chair to sit next to her. I knew I should look away in case I was making her uncomfortable.

To my amazement, she cracked a smile. It was a small one, and only someone who was truly paying attention would've seen it, but it was a smile nonetheless. At least I knew she was coherent.

"Outside," she whispered, lifting her finger and pointing at the window.

I turned my head and gazed out the window. She was looking at the garden with such...passion. I looked from the empty garden to Bella, and nearly choked by the longing in her eyes. I know it sounds corny, but it's truly how I felt. It was so different. Suddenly I wanted to take her outside to the garden because I wanted to see her smile again.

When did I become so soft?

I didn't want to seem like I was rushing anything, so I decided to play it down. "The garden?"

She nodded, still staring at it.

I leaned back in my chair, mesmerized. "Have you ever gone outside to see it?" I wanted to gauge her reaction.

Bella surprised me once again by opening her eyes wide and staring at me as though I'd just grown a second head. She shook her head vigorously and looked as though she was about to cry. Christ, I hadn't expected that.

"Would you want to?" I asked, feeling like an idiot for pushing the issue when it was clearly upsetting her. Some buddy I was.

She relaxed and bit her lip. It was obvious she wanted to say yes, but something was stopping her. Rules, herself, fear. I don't know what it was. But I knew it had nothing to do with the garden. That's when it dawned on me. Had this girl ever been outside? Since she got here?

I now had all these fucking questions burning in the back of my throat. They were waiting impatiently to be asked, but it was clear Bella was in no state of mind to be grilled. It would be in poor taste anyway. This was the first 'normal' conversation we had and I didn't want to fuck it up. It would be easy to do, though. I'd never had a conversation with someone as fragile as Bella was.

"Sorry," I said again, feeling a little aggravated at having so say that word so much around her. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Bella bit her lip again and nodded. She looked like she wanted to say something but was holding back. I wished she wouldn't. I wanted so much to hear her thoughts, to know her story. What was a girl like her doing in a place like this?

"I like gardens." Her voice was soft and gentle. It carried like the wind and was incredibly soothing to the ears. I could've listened to her talk all day just to listen to that sweet voice. Her brown eyes met mine, but they were glazed over again, making her look lost in her own head.

I nodded, wanting her to continue. She crossed her arms, giving me a better view of her. The arms of her pale blue bathrobe had layers of dirt encased on it, as did the rest of it. The words _Forks Mental Hospital _were embossed on the side in small red lettering, but they were starting to fade. Either that bathrobe had gotten years and years of wear, or Bella had been in here for a very long time. I didn't want to know the truth.

Her long auburn/brown hair still looked dirty and greasy, but today it was pulled back in a low ponytail. It hung on the side of her right shoulder, and she kept playing with it nervously. She didn't seem particularly comfortable, and I wondered for a second if it was because of me. Did I make her uncomfortable? Or was it because of her thoughts? Her memories? What the hell had she gone through to make her so...broken?

When it was clear that she wasn't going to answer my question, I decided to try again. "Are you hungry? We could go to the cafeteria if you want." Anything to get her mind off the garden.

Bella hesitated briefly before giving me a small nod. Relieved, I stood up and held out my hand for her to take. I knew that someone from school had to be watching me and was probably getting some sick satisfaction out of seeing me act so friendly towards my 'buddy' but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything except Bella.

She stood up but didn't take my hand. She reached for her hair again and started playing with it, twirling the end of her ponytail with her fingers. I tried not to feel rejected. It was then that I realized I was leading her when I had no fucking idea where the cafeteria was.

"Do you mind leading the way?" I asked, embarrassed. My pride was taking a beating but I didn't feel like wasting all our time searching for a place Bella obviously knew the location of.

She smiled again, a small smile, and shook her head. She edged in front of me and began walking at a fairly easy pace, navigating the hallways like an expert. She stopped when we reached the end of the building, in front of a pair of dark green double doors with a sign above them that read CAFETERIA.

She stepped to the side, clearly wanting me to take the lead again. I did and held out the door for her. She entered quickly. As soon as the doors closed I was immediately bombarded with the scents of hot dogs and jello. It wasn't as crowded as I'd expected. The cafeteria only had about ten circular tables. About half of them were occupied, and only one of the tables was full. It reminded me of an elementary school cafeteria with the white walls and cheesy posters with messages about caring and respect and shit like that.

I saw some people from school with their buddies, eating what looked like glorified slop. Repulsed, I followed Bella to the line.

She didn't seem too eager at the sight of the food but grabbed a tray anyway and moved down the line. I followed her lead and grabbed a tray, moving with her, staying close, but not up in her business. The cooks behind the counter looked bored as they scooped what looked like macaroni and cheese into small bowls. They shoved one in Bella's direction, then mine without even looking up. I mumbled a thanks, but it fell on deaf ears.

The perks about eating in a hospital such as this meant you didn't have to pay for it. Unlike high school, there was no attendant standing behind a cash register. Instead there was a beverage station filled with apple juice, orange juice, milk, and water.

_Where's the soda? _I was irritated with the lack of caffeine and would just have to make do with some orange juice. I wasn't surprised when Bella picked up a small bottle of water. She cocked her head to the left so that she could check with her peripheral vision to make sure that I was still with her, then walked out of the line and into the main hall of the cafeteria.

She led me in the direction of an empty table near the back. She seemed to like staying out of the view of others. I silently followed her and sat down across from her. I still wasn't sure where her comfort zone was on closeness, so until she said anything about it, I would keep my distance. It was what I'd want if it were me locked up in this shit hole.

My eyes dropped to the bowl of food in front of me. Calling it food was generous. It looked more like orange goo. My appetite decided to run in fear from it, and I shoved it to the back of the tray while opening my orange juice and taking a long sip. I watched with both horror and fascination as Bella picked up her fork and began eating.

She was obviously used to bad cooking because she didn't make a face or show any sign that she was disgusted by what she was eating. I admired her for that. She had more bravery than I did. Well, when it came to this food, anyway.

She didn't seem nearly as uncomfortable with me as she had earlier. I reasoned that it was probably because she had blocked me out of her thoughts as she took bite after bite of her slop. I made a mental note to bring actual food with me for our next visit. Who knows, it might help me get her to open up a little.

When she was finished she pushed her bowl away, looking a little sad that she was finished. My eyes met hers briefly, and she blushed when she realized I was looking at her.

"Do you want mine?" I asked, indicating my untouched bowl.

She looked from it to me, then nodded shyly. I forced myself not to smile as I pushed my bowl in her direction. Bella was cute when she blushed.

I waited for her to finish, drinking my orange juice slowly. I couldn't help but wonder how many times she ate during the day. Had she eaten breakfast this morning? If she had it couldn't have been much with how ravenously she ate right now. It made me angry thinking about it. I couldn't even entertain the idea that she was being mistreated here. I was probably jumping to conclusions about nothing, but it still made me wonder. She seemed so beaten down. Was that a result of being here?

My head was swimming with all my unanswered questions. I needed some fucking answers. How did they expect me to be her friend and help her when I didn't know anything about her? Did they expect Bella to sit with me and answer them? That would be the decent thing to do, but she tensed up every time I asked her something. I still wasn't convinced she wouldn't bolt from the door even now. I was on edge around her, yet completely fascinated with her. She was a mystery, Isabella Swan.

She finished her second bowl of goo then leaned back in her chair. She reached for her bottle of water and twisted the cap, taking a long sip. When she was finished she met my eyes again, but this time she didn't turn away. We stared at each other, not awkwardly, but not quite normally either. I got the strange feeling that she was trying to tell me something.

I had no idea how long we stared at each other before she unexpectedly stood up and began walking away. I frowned and stood up, following her. I didn't want her to run away again. She stopped when she realized I was right behind her and frowned at me.

"Where are you going?" I asked, desperate to hear her voice again and also a little irritated. Why couldn't she just relax around me?

She rolled her eyes and pointed to the sign on the door that indicated the women's restroom.

"Oh. Okay." I turned away because I didn't want her to see my embarrassed blush. "I'll wait out here."

I knew she was gone when I heard the door to the women's bathroom open then close. I felt like a moron for not realizing where she was going. Luckily the cafeteria was very nearly empty so no one had just seen my little slip up.

Bella came out a minute or so later. She smiled when she saw me. I wished she would say something, but she didn't.

We headed back to the recreation room. I felt somewhat disappointed; I couldn't help it. I wanted to take her outside to the garden, but knew it wouldn't be a good idea. If Bella could go outside, she probably would've been out there when I first arrived. Something was holding her back, and even though I wanted to know what it was, there wasn't enough time to find out today. It would just have to wait for another day.

Bella walked back to her normal spot. She didn't seem interested in doing anything else. I would have to rectify that next time as well. She was torturing herself by just sitting here letting things she couldn't have dangle in front of her face. I asked her some trivial questions without any expectation that she would answer any of them. And she didn't. She got that same dazed expression on her face and stared sadly out the window at that garden.

I sighed. There was nothing I could do about it now, and that thought alone was killing me. I was almost pleased when Mr. Banner announced that it was time to board the bus. I tried not to appear that way when I stood up and started walking away.

"Bye, Bella. See you next week," I called lazily over my shoulder.

She didn't notice.


End file.
